


Just An Ordinary Day (A timestamp for The Doors of Time)

by felisblanco



Series: The Doors of Time [6]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-25
Updated: 2011-09-25
Packaged: 2017-11-04 07:59:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A timestamp for <a href="http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/856417.html">The Doors of Time</a> set during the winter between Part 2 and the Epilogue.<br/><i> There are times when Jared allows himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, this is it. They’re </i>there<i>. Weeks, even months, when everything is perfect, and Jensen never seems to stop smiling, from the moment he wakes up to the time he lays his head down on the pillow to sleep and dream of things that are good, and fine and beautiful, and they’re good. They’re </i>fine<i>.</i></p>
<p>
  <i>And then there are times like this.</i>
  <br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Just An Ordinary Day (A timestamp for The Doors of Time)

**Author's Note:**

> Beta’d by [](http://candygramme.livejournal.com/profile)[**candygramme**](http://candygramme.livejournal.com/).  
>  Title from the song by Vanessa Carlton. (Yeah, yeah. Shut it. I have an eleven year old girl who listens to this all the time and it just stuck.)

There are times when Jared allows himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, this is it. They’re _there_. Weeks, even months, when everything is perfect, and Jensen never seems to stop smiling, from the moment he wakes up to the time he lays his head down on the pillow to sleep and dream of things that are good, and fine and beautiful, and they’re good. They’re _fine_.

And then there are times like this.

“Jared? It’s Miranda.” Her tone is cautious, kind. A little sad.

Jared closes his eyes. Breathes in deep. “What happened?”

She hesitates, just long enough for his fingers to tighten around the phone, until it creaks in protest.

“It’s been a bad week,” she finally says.

He can’t help it. “ _Week?_ ” he repeats. Voice tight. Hard.

“I didn’t know,” she says quickly. “Not everything gets back to me. I didn’t–”

“Tell me,” he cuts her off, not wanting to get angry, because it’s not her fault, and any other place and Jensen would be out on his ass by now. He knows, he _knows_ , but that doesn’t make _this_ moment, right now, any easier.

“He missed a meeting Monday. Which, yes, is nothing new, but he didn’t show up for his first class either. Or his second.”

Jared rewinds the week in his head as he listens. Thursday, Wednesday, Tuesday, Monday. Jensen had been tired and irritable – he likes sleeping in on weekends, which is a bitch for Monday mornings. He’d also seemed more distracted than usual, so they’d taken the subway together and then a calming walk through the park before parting ways.

He tells her as much, omitting the reason. “We said goodbye by the steps on Columbus. He was two minutes away, tops.”

“Tom found him sitting by the fountain. Asleep.”

Jared sighs. Damn water fairies. “Okay. What else?”

“Tuesday was good, as far as I know,” she tells him. “But Wednesday he had to lie down right after his first class started and…” Pause. “I guess he slept all day.”

The knot in his chest tightens. “You guess?”

“One of the cleaning staff walked in on him long after everyone was gone. The door was locked, everyone thought he’d gone home.”

Wednesday. Wednesday Jensen came home late, looking tired and pensive, but when Jared asked him he’d claimed to have just gotten lost again. Jared hadn’t questioned it, because Wednesdays are always hard. That first class, that would have been Ellie. She always drains Jensen to exhaustion although he’s never wanted to tell Jared why. “Not mine to tell,” he insists which Jared thinks is bullshit. If it’s affecting Jensen to the point that he’s having trouble functioning it’s something Jared needs to know about.

“He woke Jensen up, offered to call him a cab – you know how he is after his spells. Jensen said no. Said he’d call you to pick him up.”

Jared swallows. “He didn’t. He hasn’t said anything.”

“Look,” she says after a long awkward silence. “I only heard about this now. And with him missing again I asked around, and it seems he didn’t show up for almost half his classes last week as well. Is everything all right?”

Jared doesn’t know what to say. “I…” He stops, breath caught in his throat. “Wait, he’s missing _now_?”

The brief pause feels ominous. “I thought Lizzie called you?”

He grips the phone tighter, worry turning into fear on the dot. “I had an exam. My phone was turned off. How long has he been missing?”

“He never showed up this morning. Lizzie tried calling him but there was no answer. She sent some students out around noon but so far we haven’t been able to find him.”

It’s three o’clock now. Jared looks out the window, at the snow drifting down like it has been doing since early this morning.

“Look, Jared,” she says, voice gentle. “I’m not saying his job is in jeopardy but this is not good. His students are missing valuable time. If something is going on, we need to know, so we can make arrangements.”

“Miranda, thank you for letting me know,” he says, as calmly as he can manage. “I need to go find him. We’ll talk about this later.”

“Of course. Yes. Just… Jared, you know we love him but…” She sighs. “I have a school to run. _He_ has obligations. His students…”

Jared closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose. “I know. We’ll sort it out. He gets this way sometimes, you know that.”

“I know.” She sounds sad, as sad as Jared doesn’t have the luxury to feel right now.

“I’ll let you know when I find him,” he says quickly and hangs up. Then stands just staring out the window for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts while pushing down his fear deep into his stomach. Two weeks? This has been going on for almost _two weeks_? Why hasn’t Jensen said anything? And how the hell did he not notice something was going on?

_Damn it, Jensen. We said no more secrets._

First thing first. He opens the GPS tracking device on the laptop, holding his breath as the streets of New York fill the screen, until _finally_ Jensen’s handle pops up. At home. Jared curses. He goes into the hall and sure enough, there is Jensen’s phone, on the small shelf by the door.

“It’s on the list, Jen!” Jared snaps, his fear getting the better of him. “Three times! Keys, hat, gloves, PHONE!” He jabs his finger at the list by the door, hard enough that it hurts. “Remember your PHONE! Don’t forget your. Goddamn. Fucking. PHONE!”

The curses aren’t written out but Jared’s always felt they were very strongly implied.

“Should just put a leash on you, save us all a lot of trouble,” he mutters as he bundles up in his coat, hat, gloves and scarf. It’s not really that cold, barely below freezing, but who knows how long he’ll be out there. As he waits for the elevator to arrive he calls Susie, to ask if she’s seen Jensen, and when she says no, to let her know he’ll be late, possibly won’t be coming in at all.

“Don’t worry about it,” she reassures him. “Just make sure he’s all right.”

He promises, however empty that might be, and tries Chris next. He’s been working a lot lately, or maybe he’s just trying to give them more privacy, Jared doesn’t know. Whatever it is he hasn’t been around much.

It takes three rings and when it’s picked up it’s with a bright if somewhat breathless ‘Hello?’ in a voice Jared doesn’t recognize.

“Sorry, who is this?” he says bewildered, briefly pulling the phone from his ear to make sure he dialed the right number.

There’s a giggle and a shush and a growl of, “Give me that!” followed by the noise of light fighting before the woman boldly blurts out, “This would be the girlfriend.”  
A loud curse hisses in the background.

Jared blinks. “Uhm…”

Is Chris dating? When did that happen?

“I’m sorry but I really need to talk to Chris.”

“Christian is busy at the moment,” the woman says, giggling. “Can I take a message?”

_Christian?_

“It’s very important. It’s about Jensen.”

“Oh. _Jensen_.” The tone is odd, the kind that comes with thin lips and an eyeroll. “Well, _Jensen_ will just have to wait because…”

“Give me that!” Jared hears Chris snap, and then he’s saying, “Jenny?” into the phone, hoarse and out of breath.

Oh well, this is awkward.

“No, it’s Jared. Dude, were you…?” Jared coughs, embarrassed. “Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Chris growls just as the woman hisses, “Yes!” right into the receiver, making Jared’s ears turn red. “What’s wrong?”

“Jesus.” He laughs despite everything. “It’s three o’clock in the afternoon. You _dog_.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake! Why are you calling?”

Jared’s smile slips. “Jensen’s missing. Has been since this morning.”

He doesn’t mention the other stuff. They can talk about that later, sometime when Jared isn’t panicking. And Chris has clothes on.

“Shit.”

He can hear rustling, like someone struggling to entangle from sweaty sheets. Jared cringes. Oh so _very_ awkward.

“You try his phone?”

“He left it at home. I just noticed.”

Chris curses. “Okay. I’m on my way. Park?”

“I’m already heading there,” Jared tells him. “Same plan as usual?”

“Yeah. Keep me posted.”

Chris hangs up before Jared can ask him who the lady-friend is.

Thinking about Chris dating and what that might mean to their dysfunctional pseudo family, distracts him only as long as it takes to go down in the elevator and walk to the front door. There the cold hits him straight in the face and the fact that Jensen might be out there, somewhere, sends chills down his spine that are far colder than the snowflakes hitting his skin.

He thinks about taking a cab but the traffic is always slow on days like this, he’ll be faster taking the subway. He has to wait for the lights to change, has to wait in line, has to walk in a world that pays him no attention, no more than anyone else. The train is as full as always, everyone smelling of wet wool and winter. Automatically Jared heads for his and Jensen’s usual spot, but the seat is taken and not to be vacated, judging by the glare shot his way.

It hurts, like a sting in his chest. Not that he’s so invisible on his own but because he can feel Jensen’s absence, like an empty space beside him despite the number of bodies pressed up against his. It’s a painfully familiar feeling, a feeling he tends to forget sometimes, wishes he could altogether. This was his life before Jensen. Before _them_. It’s not a life he’s ready to go back to. Not now, not ever.

 

Central Park is over eight hundred and forty acres of space to get lost in. To lose someone in. They have a system, one which Chris put together years ago after losing Jensen one too many times. Even split in two the area is still overwhelming, especially on days like this when the whole world is white and every person looks like the next, hidden beneath hats and scarves and thick coats.

After two hours it’s starting to get really dark and Jared is running out of places, patience and, most frighteningly, hope.

“I know you can hear me,” he says out loud, startling a romantic couple hurrying in the other direction. “Help me find him. Please.”

There’s no answer and he feels foolish, crazy. Talking to invisible fairies, that’s what he’s been reduced to. “Please,” he repeats anyway, voice cracking. “It’s Jensen. _Your_ Jensen.”

A squirrel runs up to him, nose twitching, then turns around and skitters away, only to stop and skip back.

Jared stares at it. No. It can’t be. Can it?

The squirrel tilts its head then takes off again, stopping a few feet away.

“Okay, I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jared says, feeling hopeful for the first time since he got that phone call. And very bewildered. Since when do any of them listen to _him_? It becomes an absurd chase through trees and flowerbeds and bushes, following a route that makes probably perfect sense to a squirrel but has Jared questioning his sanity.

“I swear to God, if you’re fucking with me I’m turning you into–“ The rest of that sentence gets caught in his throat as the squirrel finally comes to a stop.

Jensen is sitting, still as a statue, on a bench hidden from view by snow-heavy bushes. There is a thick blanket of snow covering Jensen from head to toe. Underneath there is a thicker blanket of wool, wrapped around his shoulders, another draped over his lap and tucked under his legs. They’re dirty, frayed, but when Jared slips his hand underneath to feel Jensen’s heart there’s warmth there and Jared’s chest tightens in gratitude. On the bench beside Jensen sit three cups of coffee, all untouched. One of them is still steaming.

“Jesus, Jensen.”

He lays his palm on Jensen’s cheek. There’s snow clinging to his eyelashes. His gaze is far, far away. He’s barely warm enough to melt the snowflakes as they float down to kiss his skin.

“Jensen. Hey, Jensen, wake up.” He kisses Jensen’s lips, cold and wet with snow. Breathes warm air on his icy nose. Kisses that too. “Come on.”

Jensen blinks. His eyes slowly come alive as his gaze shifts and changes and finally settles on Jared. “Jared?” he whispers hoarsely, sounding surprised.

“Oh thank God.” Jared pulls the blankets free, shaking the snow off, then wraps his arms around Jensen and squeezes him tight. “You had me so damn worried. You _idiot_!” He laughs but it sounds more like a sob. Fuck, soon as he gets Jensen home and warmed up he’s gonna _kill_ him!

“Wha-” Jensen stops. Clears his throat. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you! _Everyone’s_ been looking for you. You’ve been missing all day. Jesus!”

Jensen pulls away, looking at him with a frown. “No. I just got here. I…” He glances around, eyes widening as he takes in the dark sky, the thick snow that wasn’t there this morning, the proof of people having come and gone, bringing him shelter and warmth he didn’t even know he needed. “Oh.”

“Yes. _Oh_ ,” Jared says exasperated. He pulls Jensen to his feet, and he stumbles, his knees shaking when he finally stands. As still as he was a moment ago now he’s shaking violently, his teeth chattering.

Jared grips him tighter. “Jen, we’re taking a cab,” he says. “No argument.”

Jensen just nods. He leans against Jared’s side, like all his strength has evaporated. His eyes are already slipping closed. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah well, you should be,” Jared says but there’s no heat in it, he’s too damn relieved to be angry. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

He fishes his phone out of his pocket as they walk to the nearest exit and calls Chris.

“We’ll meet you at home,” he says when Chris’s string of relieved curses finally comes to an end. “I’m grabbing the first cab I find.”

“Where are you?” Chris says and then, “I’m on my way,” when Jared tells him.

“Chris…”

“Five minutes!”

There’s no arguing with that tone so Jared sighs and tells him they’ll wait. Not like they can really get that much colder, five minutes added or not.

Chris’s face is pink when he shows up, the windows of his truck steamed up from more than just the slowly rising heat hitting the cool glass. “How is he?” Chris asks, tone gruff and short, like he doesn’t really care. Like he isn’t still blinking the tears away.

“Cold. Confused. Pretty drained. Think he’s sleeping now,” Jared says, looping the seatbelt around Jensen’s slack body before buckling himself in. “Or he might be passed out,” he adds, getting worried the longer everything stays normal.

“Christ,” Chris mutters and shoves the truck violently into gear. “Fucking asshole.”

“It’s not… He’s _off_ ,” Jared says quietly. “Been off for a while. Apparently.”

Chris’s eyes snap to his in the rearview mirror. “ _Apparently_?”

“Miranda called. He’s been missing a lot of work the last couple of weeks. I didn’t know.”

Chris stares at him. A car honks behind them as the lights turn green, and he jerks the truck into gear again, jaw clenched tight. “That’s not good,” he finally says. “You two been having problems I don’t know about?”

“What? No.”

Jared glares at him then looks over at Jensen. His shoulders slump in relief when he spots a few wild flowers weaving a crown around Jensen’s head. Nothing exotic, they look like weed, but at least it’s something.

“I didn’t think so,” he says in a low voice. “I don’t know. He hasn’t said anything. Just been kinda quiet, but that’s how he gets sometimes, you know that.”

“Hmmm.” Chris drums his fingers on the wheel, lips twisting in thought. “Could be anything, I guess.”

“Yeah.” Jared looks out the window. Gnaws on his lip. Says, “I just wish he’d told me.”

Chris shoots him a look but he doesn’t say anything.

 

They put Jensen to bed, and Jared calls Juilliard, then Susan, then Tom, who’s been driving around since he got off work. Tells them everything is all right. That Jensen just lost track of time. That he was somewhere safe and warm. That there’s no need to worry.

He never used to be so good at lying.

He walks back into the bedroom to find Chris sitting in a bed of roses, back against the headboard of the overgrown bedframe. His fingers are stroking through Jensen’s damp, flat, hair where he lies sleeping, face pressed against Chris’s thigh. Chris doesn’t move when Jared comes in, just looks up then down again, like he can’t let Jensen out of his sight, not yet.

“He’s been good,” he says, voice breaking just a little. “Since you… Since _you_. He’s been fine. Mostly. Not… this. Been a long time since he did this.”

He doesn’t say that he thought ‘this’ was a thing of the past. He doesn’t have to.

“He’s still the same guy. I’m not Jesus, you know,” Jared says, feeling defensive for some reason. “I can’t make everything bad that’s ever happened to him go away.”

Chris sighs. “I know. I didn’t mean… I just meant, he’s happy now. You know? He shouldn’t need to do this anymore.”

Jared carefully crosses the field of wild flowers to sit down on the other side of the bed. He stays quiet, trying to find the best way to put his thoughts. Finally he says, “Maybe we’re so used to seeing him as different that we forget he might just have normal problems.” At Chris confused look he shrugs, uncomfortable. “You know, mental problems.”

Chris goes rigid. “Don’t you fucking say that,” he snaps, eyes glaring. “You of all people should know better.”

“I’m not talking straightjacket crazy,” Jared shoots back, just as annoyed. “I just mean that a lot of shit has happened to him, and that does things to a person. Maybe this is how that presents itself when your mind’s all magical.”

Chris rolls his eyes, jaw clenched. “You think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?”

Jared sighs. “No, I don’t. It’s just a theory, man. Don’t bite my head off.”

They sit silent for a while, Chris still stroking Jensen’s hair, Jared staring up at the ceiling.

“Even if that’s it,” Chris finally says, voice low, “what difference does it make? He can’t be on meds, he’d scare the fuck out of any therapist, not to mention they’d scare the fuck out of him. So… what?”

Jared sighs. “So nothing. Like you said, he’s happy. Most of the time. I just wanted to point out that those kinds of problems… “ He hesitates but, really, there is no gentle way to say this. “Some of them never go away, Chris. That’s just how the mind works.”

Chris looks for a second like he wants to reach across the bed and punch Jared in the face but then he drops his gaze, back to his hand that’s still now, fingers caught in the tangles of Jensen’s hair.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I know.”

They don’t say anything for a while. Jared is getting sleepy, would like nothing better than to crawl under the mossy covers and wrap his arms around Jensen then sleep until morning, but he doesn’t feel he’s earned the rights yet to kick Chris out of Jensen’s bed. And he’s not sure they’re really in the mood for a sleepover right now. Not with the way Chris is averting his eyes, mouth turned downward, Adam’s apple bobbing repeatedly in his throat. Jared’s pretty sure the only thing keeping Chris from slinking off to his own room to brood, are Jensen’s fingers curled around his knee, holding him in place.

“So, _Christian_ …” Jared finally says, aiming for casual and accidentally hitting smug. “Girlfriend, huh?”

To his delight Chris blushes, the tips of his ears turning bright pink. “Fuck you.”

“You sure she’s into that?” Jared says, faking interest, then ducks as Chris swaps at his head. “Easy, don’t wake up Sleeping Beauty.”

Chris goes instantly still, but his nostrils keep flaring dangerously. He looks more relaxed though than before, so Jared doesn’t feel too bad about needling him.

“So, what’s her name? What she do? Is she pretty? Good genes? Nice childbearing hips?”

“Jesus! What? What the fuck are you–“ Chris is practically spluttering, and it’s _awesome_. “Are you insane or just stupid?” he grits out. “Because I’d like to know what defense to bring up when they arrest me for shooting you in the fucking face!”

“Ah, so it’s _that_ serious,” Jared says solemnly then spends the next ten minutes trying to keep his laughter down as Chris accuses him of every vile sexual act – some involving farm animals – that he can think of, his voice low, and threatening and desperate not to wake Jensen up.

\------

“Hey.”

Jensen blinks his eyes open, looking bewildered at the familiar back of Chris’s sleeping head before turning over to meet Jared’s worried gaze from the other side of his pillow.

“Hi.” He glances back at Chris and frowns. “Why’s he in our bed?”

“Got tired waiting for you to wake up.” When Jensen just looks at him, Jared reaches out, rubbing a thumb over Jensen’s cheek. “You don’t remember?”

He shakes his head, confused. “Why am I home? I was on my way to work.”

Jared nods. “And?” he prods.

Jensen thinks. Smiles in remembrance. “And it started to snow so I sat down to watch for a while. You came to find me?”

Jared meets his smile with a brief tight one. “Yeah. Approximately seven hours later.”

Jensen stares at him. “What?” He swallows. “I never made it to work?”

Jared shakes his head.

“Fuck.” Jensen rubs a hand over his face, groaning. Jared keeps watching him, like he’s waiting for an explanation. “I’ve been missing work a lot lately,” Jensen admits reluctantly.

Jared nods. “I know. Miranda told me. Why?”

“I don’t know.” He averts his eyes, feeling small, guilty. “I’m just… I keep getting lost.”

“In the park?” Jared asks, frowning. They both know if there’s one place Jensen knows like the back of his hand, it’s Central Park.

Jensen bites his lip. “In my head,” he says. “I keep getting lost in my head.”

Jared watches him, concerned. He smells like burnt paper, like twisted steel and worry. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jensen can feel his cheeks heating. “I…” He bites his lip again, gnawing at it before letting it reluctantly go. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.” He chances a glance up, sees Jared staring at him. “I’m happy,” he explains, feeling awkward. “You make me happy.”

“I know,” Jared says, but he doesn’t look any less confused.

“So, this sort of thing shouldn’t be happening,” Jensen elaborates. “This is… the old me. Before you.”

Jared sighs. He looks a little put upon. “I’m _really_ not Jesus,” he says, sounding rather exasperated. “Way to put pressure on a guy.”

Jensen frowns, not really sure what he’s getting at. “That’s not what I meant.”

Jared sighs again. Rolls on his back and stares up at the ceiling. “I know. Sorry. I’m just having a diva moment,” he waves his hand dramatically. “It’s all about _me_ , didn’t you know?”

Jensen can’t help laughing a little, despite everything. If there’s a diva in the room he’s pretty sure _he’s_ the one wearing the tiara. Jared looks over at him and smiles, but his eyes are still filled with worry.

“You want to talk about it?” he asks.

Jensen shrugs. “What is there to talk about?” he says, unable to hide his bitterness. “Apparently nothing’s changed. I’m just as weird as I’ve always been.”

“Praise the Lord!” Jared says, raising his hands to the ceiling like in prayer, and Jensen laughs again.

“Idiot,” he says fondly. His smile turns solemn. “It’s just… There’s no _reason_ for it to be happening. Not now.”

Jared nods, thoughtful. “ _It_ being…?”

Jensen sighs. “I’m here, and then suddenly... I’m not.”

Jared turns on his side again, head propped up on one hand. “So where do you go? Are you dreaming?” he asks.

Jensen shakes his head. “No. I’m just gone. My mind goes completely blank.” He swallows. “I used to do this a lot before, you know. Especially the first years after I got out. And all the time while I was there. Was what kept me sane, I think, being able to just leave when it got too much. But things are different now. _I’m_ supposed to be different now.” His breath hitches. “I don’t get why it’s happening again. It scares the shit out of me.”

He closes his eyes when Jared reaches out to cup his cheek. This is why he didn’t tell Jared. That look. All sad and uncertain and fearful.

“Maybe you’re just tired,” Jared suggests, tugging a strand of hair behind his ear. “You’ve been working pretty hard. Or maybe it’s just…”

He pauses. Runs his fingers into Jensen’s hair then keeps them there, fingertips feverishly warm against his scalp.

“Sometimes,” he says, his voice so quiet Jensen can hardly hear him, “when people feel depressed, they withdraw into themselves. You think maybe it could be something like that?”

Jensen blinks his eyes open. “Why would I feel depressed?” he asks confused. “You’re here now.”

Jared smiles a little but his eyes stay serious. “Depression doesn’t really need a reason,” he points out. “Sometimes it just pops up out of nowhere.”

Jensen thinks about that for a moment. “I have been feeling a little off,” he admits reluctantly. “Not unhappy, just… disconnected. I never thought of it as depression but I guess… Yeah, maybe.”

He meets Jared’s eyes, feeling guilty. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you or anything, I just didn’t know how to explain it. Thought maybe I was imagining it. Was just missing summer or something. Everything’s so gray and dull, now the flowers are gone.” He turns his head, stares up at the ceiling. “And then this started, and I just… I got so damn scared, Jared. Thought maybe I was… You know. Going bad again.”

“Jen,” Jared says softly, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jensen closes his eyes. “You always look so sad, when… when I’m off. And this time I’m really off, Jared. I’m so fucking off,” he says, his voice shaking. “I thought, ‘Maybe if I just wait a bit it’ll get better,’ but it didn’t. It just got worse.” He swallows. “I can’t even remember yesterday.”

He can feel Jared shuffling closer, then warm lips touch his forehead, his eyes, his mouth.

“Yesterday I picked you up after work because I missed you too much to wait for you to get your lazy ass home.” His voice is low, warm. “We went to Susie’s, and you had waffles with blueberries and two double espressos. We walked home and you played… I think it was Chopin, while I talked to my mama on the phone. Then you pulled me into the bedroom and had your very wicked way with me. Twice. We had pasta for dinner, and you fell asleep with your head in my lap. It was a perfect day.”

Jensen blinks his eyes open, a lump caught in his throat. “You just made that all up, didn’t you?” he asks hoarsely.

Jared quirks one eyebrow at him. “Does it matter?”

“No.” Jensen shakes his head. “Every day is a perfect day when you’re in it.”

Jared laughs. “Funny, I was just gonna say that about you.”

Jensen can’t help smiling although he doesn’t think Jared really gets it. That even the worst days are the best they can be, because he’s not facing them alone anymore. Because Jared is here now.

“I feel down sometimes, too, you know,” Jared says, his eyes turning serious. “Everyone does. But with your history, we need to keep an eye on it.” He rubs his thumb behind Jensen’s ear, his breath hot on Jensen’s face. “Next time, tell me. You’re not alone, whatever is happening. We can put our heads together, figure something out. That’s part of the whole boyfriend deal, you know.”

“I know. I’m sorry. And I will. Tell you, I mean.” He smiles, feeling foolish. “I promise.”

“Okay.” Jared kisses him, and Jensen kisses back, feeling lighter than he has in days. By the time he pulls away they’re both flushed pink and smiling.

“I’ve got an idea. Something that might cheer you up,” Jared says suddenly, his face brightening.

“Really?” Jensen quirks one eyebrow, grinning.

Jared laughs. “Not that. Something else.”

“Better be something else,” Chris grumbles suddenly, making them both jump. “What’s a guy gotta do to get some sleep around here?”

“I don’t know,” Jared says innocently, winking at a confused Jensen. “Crawl into bed with his _girlfriend_? Christian.”

Jensen blinks. He’s about to turn around and ask Chris what the hell Jared is talking about, when Chris is suddenly up and out of the bed, grabbing his jeans and shirt as he makes his way to the door.

“I’m taking a shower,” he snaps. “And no having sex while I’m gone! These walls are way too fucking thin.”

Jensen stares at his retreating back. “ _Christian_?” he repeats, bewildered. “Wait, what’s–?”

The door slams shut before he can finish the question. He turns his head to see Jared lying on his back again, laughing.

“Chris has a girlfriend?”

Jared bites his lip to keep the laughter in, head nodding. “She calls him ‘ _Christian_ ’,” he says in a flirty falsetto, batting his eyes.

Jensen laughs, a little hesitant. He doesn’t quite know how he feels. Of course he wants Chris to be happy, loved, have a family even. Chris would be great with kids. He just hadn’t thought out the details of that happening. Like, what if the girlfriend doesn’t like _him_? What if she wants to be with Chris all the time, not leaving him any to spend with Jensen? What if she wants them to move somewhere, far away? What if–

“Stop thinking so hard,” Jared says, smiling. “I’m sure she’ll love you. How can she not? You’re damn adorable.”

“Oh shut up,” Jensen mutters, blushing. “I’m not worried.”

“Uhuh.” Jared snorts. He rolls out of bed, reaching for his jeans. “Come on, put some clothes on, or I might just give ‘Christian’ a happy after all.”

Jensen scowls. “Tease.” He shuffles out of bed, finds clean clothes in the drawer. Soft old jeans and a dark-blue t-shirt.

“Seriously, _Christian_?” he asks as he pulls the jeans on. “She calls him _Christian_?” Something occurs to him, and he grins. “We’re never calling him Chris ever again, are we?”

Jared’s grin is practically devilish. “Nope.”

This time the laugh is genuine.

\-------

“Where are we going?” Jensen asks, a little out of breath. Jared tends to forget how freakishly long his legs are and Jensen’s arm is starting to ache from being tugged along halfway across the city, or so it feels like.

“Just a little further,” Jared says, throwing him a huge grin and flexing his fingers to get a better grip. “Almost there.”

Jensen looks around, trying to figure out where they are. Outside Central Park he’s as lost as any tourist in New York, probably worse if anything. And he hadn’t really been paying that much attention to where they got off, or even what train they were riding, just done his usual space-out, his iPod plugged into his ears, and Jared’s arm tight around his shoulders.

It’s not until they round the corner, and the big glass buildings of The New York Botanical Garden come into view that he gets it. “Oh,” he says, stopping so abruptly in his track that Jared jerks back, almost losing his balance.

He turns to Jensen, looking awkward but hopeful. “I just thought it would be something you’d like,” he says. “I know it’s not the same but–”

“Jared, I do like,” Jensen cuts him off, eyes shining. “I like it very much.”

“Yeah?” Jared smiles. “C’mon then.” And they’re off again, practically running the last few yards.

Jared’s right, it’s not the same. It’s different. It’s _amazing_. God, the scents, the humid heat, the jungle of colors…

He’s laughing before he can help himself, too exhilarated to worry about people noticing every swaying bud and flower turning his way. Why has he never been here before? He’s been living in New York for over eight years. Eight winters waiting for spring, for his beloved Central Park to come out of its hiatus. And all the while he’s had this, easily within reach. Stupid, stupid.

He’s never bothered with flowers at home, not with Chris’s hay fever exploding every time he so much as gets near a flower shop. Of course there are the other flowers, the magical ones, but for all their wonder they really aren’t the same as living breathing ones. And cut flowers just make him sad, stems sucking up water and petals gasping for air, uselessly trying to hold on to life as they’re dying.

But this… This is Life. This is Nature. Controlled and contained within glass walls but still. A little slice of Eden, right in his back yard. He draws in a deep breath, filling his lungs with this amazing air that smells of every plant, and grass and tree he can think of. He laughs again, a little choked up. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed that smell.

“This is amazing. It’s… Thank you.” He turns around to find Jared right behind him, gazing at him with such love it takes the breath out of him.

“God, I love you,” Jared says hoarsely, his hands warm on Jensen’s face as he pulls him in, and then they’re kissing, right there. The world blurs around them, the colors blending and mixing, until he feels like he’s standing in the middle of a rainbow. For some reason that thought has him laughing all over again.

He really had no idea it was possible to feel this happy.

\-----------

Jensen zones out again two days later, but that time Jared is with him, and they just stay in the booth at Susan’s café for the three hours it takes: Jared drinking his coffee, reading his book and watching the busy world of New York walk by, while Jensen stays in the firm safety of Jared’s arms, head on his shoulder, eyelids closed by the gentle stroke of Jared’s fingertips, just so he doesn’t look quite as creepy.

When he wakes up they walk home, hand in hand, catching snowflakes on their tongues and shaking them out of their hair. Jensen looks calm, if tired, and by the time they make it home he’s laughing at something Jared said and joking about blowing him in the elevator. It’s more than Jared expected considering how wiped out he’d been last time.

The calmness only lasts until Jared reminds him that Chris’s girlfriend, Amy, is coming for dinner. Apparently she thought it was time to meet ‘the only man that’s ever been able to lure a guy out of my bed’.

Jensen is tense as they prepare dinner, he keeps playing short nervous ditties on the piano, even as he’s staying in the kitchen under Jared and Chris’s watchful eyes. Chris offers to call her, to reschedule… hell, just call the whole thing off, not like it was his idea or even choice.

“Can think of a hundred things I’d rather be doing, thank you very much,” he mutters under his breath as he chops carrots with unnecessary force. “Naked things. That don’t involve either of you two losers,” he adds with a threatening swing of the knife.

Jensen dismisses the offer with a lame wave and a pasted-on smile. “You’re just worried we’ll tell her what a cranky little bitch you really are,” he says and grins when Chris doesn’t even try to deny it.

Dinner goes as well as can be expected. Jensen doesn’t out himself, even if he comes close quite a few times. He’s twitchy, awkward, seems afraid to smile and loses track of the conversation again and again. Jared lays a hand on Jensen’s thigh under the table, squeezing it reassuringly, then keeps it there for the rest of the meal, hoping it helps. He’s getting quite skilled in eating one handed.

Chris looks uncomfortable, on edge. He throws Amy small tight smiles and Jensen softer, comforting ones. He’s quick to change the subject if the conversation seems to be turning too personal. He even cuts in to answer the questions she poses to Jensen, before he has time to open his mouth. At any other time, Jared knows Jensen would be bitching that he can very well answer for himself, but now he just looks relieved.

Amy looks more confused than uncomfortable. Her voice is a little loud, her hand movements quick and unpredictable. She keeps shooting Jensen not so subtle glances every time he flinches, eyebrow raised, cogs clearly turning, turning, without the pieces ever falling into place. As much as she claims to have heard about Jensen from Chris, it doesn’t seem he’s explained any of the important stuff. Jared can’t help thinking that might say more than anything.

When they leave for Amy’s place, Jared hugs her goodbye, while Jensen offers her an awkward wave from the door, looking relieved the whole ordeal is over.

Chris doesn’t say anything, just watches the display with a strange look on his face. Then he shakes his head and pulls Jensen into a hug, whispering something in his ear that Jared can’t hear. When he pulls away, smiling softly, Jensen’s face is flushed in embarrassment but he looks like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He even tells Amy it was nice to finally meet her, timing it just as the door to the elevator is closing to prevent her from retaliating and thus prolonging their stay.

 

Jared isn’t surprised when Chris never mentions Amy again; not when he comes home the next day or in the lonely weeks that follow. Jared doesn’t feel too bad about it since Chris seems fine. In fact, a couple of months later, Chris hooks up with a girl at a bar where his band is playing, but he doesn’t bring her home, and the relationship only lasts three weeks. If anything he seems even less heartbroken that time.

“Ain’t looking for love,” he tells Jared in drunken confidence one night after Jensen has gone to bed. “Just making up for all those years of Jennibacy.”

“Huh?” Jared squints at him through the haze of golden liquid.

“Never did get much done when it was just me and him,” Chris explains awkwardly. “Never felt right, bringing anyone here, and girls don’t really like when you run off right after. But it’s not like I could leave my boy home alone all night, ya know? Too fucked up for that. Poor kid. Don’t tell him I said that,” he adds quickly, neck flushing pink.

Jared takes another gulp of his beer and assures Chris he won’t. “Thank you for taking care of my boyfriend instead of having lots of sex,” he slurs, raising the bottle in Chris’s honor. “Much appreciated.”

Chris nods solemnly. “Well, thank fuck you’re here now. And not just ‘coz it gets me laid,” he says. “Just… this is how it was supposed to be, ya know? You and him. Never really believed it, but he was right, the freak. Here you are. Happy ever after. Un-fucking-believable.”

He drains his beer then gets up and stumbles to bed before Jared can think of anything to say.

 

Jensen doesn’t have another depressive episode – if that’s what it is, obviously he’ll never get an official diagnosis – for almost six months. It’s still jarring but he feels different about it now. Not as guilty. Not as alone. Not so damn scared. With all his history of strange and scary, he never thought he’d be battling something so _normal_ , even if he might be doing it in an abnormal way. Oddly enough it makes him feel a little less weird, a little more human. Looking at it like that it almost feels worth the price, at least as long as it doesn’t fuck up his life too much.

They deal with it together, just like Jared promised him they would. Jared walks him to work, Tom checks up on him regularly while he’s there, Chris picks him up if Jared is stuck in class or at Susie’s. It’s a little annoying to be treated like a helpless kindergartner, but the truth is he feels a lot more secure knowing someone’s always there to catch him if he needs it. That he can tell them, “I’m slipping,” and they will be there, looking out for him, until he comes back. That they don’t expect him to be good all the time, even if he is happier than he’s ever been in his life.

And then suddenly it’s summer, and they’re leaving in a couple of weeks for their first vacation abroad _ever_ , and, really, who has time to be depressed when their life is so amazingly wonderful? Jensen asks Jared, with a smile that feels like his old self. Jared smiles back, then kisses him, until they both forget what they were talking about.

Fin.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ps. Sorry for the lack of music. *hides* Also, I have no idea what the flora is like at the Botanical Garden in the middle of winter but according to the website they do have a tropical rain forest in their conservatory which is where I pictured the boys being. Any inaccuracies there let's attribute them to my poetic license, okay? No really, I have a card and everything, somewhere...  
> 


End file.
